Option Four
by Sou1Waffle
Summary: "You and I remember Budapest *very* differently." Perhaps it had something to do with the time-travelling spaceman in a blue box that Clint encountered. A bit of Clintasha.
1. Intro

Option Four

"It's like Budapest all over again!" she shouted.

"You and I remember Budapest very differently," he replied.

* * *

_Budapest_

_Thursday, June 10__th__, 2010_

"Natasha, I think you'd better come look at—"

"Not now," she snapped, indicating the phone and the conversation she was in the middle of. She turned away and continued talking with whoever-the-hell-it-was.

Clint turned back to the blue box. This time, however, there was a funny looking man in a suit and converse staring out of the doorway at him. As soon as he noticed Clint looking, he tilted his head and waved. However, no sooner had he gotten over the initial shock of seeing a man step out of a blue box that had appeared out of nowhere than Natasha shouted urgently, "we have to GO," and when he turned back around, the funny man and his blue box had disappeared.


	2. In which Clint meets the Doctor

_Budapest_

_Saturday, June 19th, 2010_

Clint sat in the ninth-story window of an abandoned apartment building, waiting for Natasha's signal to release the arrow he had nocked and aimed at the building across the street. He trusted Natasha not to get killed, but still worried that they wouldn't be finished in time for the dinner reservations he had made for the date he was planning to ask her out on tonight.

"Hello there," came a cheerful English accent from behind him. In a split second, Clint whipped up his bow and aimed it directly at the odd man who had startled him. The man threw his hands up in the air as if he were surrendering. "Nice bow you've got there, all techy and stuff. Might want to point it somewhere else, though; I don't think we really want a big explosion in this little room, do we? Nah, that wouldn't be fun. Well, when I say fun, I mean the dying part. Explosions are always fun. Dying? Not so much. Done it a few times myself. Quite unpleasant." The strange man raised an eyebrow and Clint reluctantly lowered his weapon. "Good, now, turn back and watch out the window again. Your girlfriend's going to need you in 8…7—"

"She's not my girlfriend," Clint said sternly.

"Not yet anyways, keep watching, Barton. 3…2…1…" There was a gunshot from the building across the street.

"How the _hell_ do you know my name?" Clint said as he released the arrow, and a moment later the fourth-story window where he had been aiming was engulfed in flames. He turned back to the man. "And what do you want from me?"

"Explosions. Like I said, always fun."

"Who are you?"

"Mmm, surprised you didn't ask earlier! I'm the Doctor." He offered Clint a handshake. "And you, my friend, are _the_ Clint Barton, known to the rest of the universe as Hawkeye, am I not mistaken? Oh." The Doctor stared off into the distance, having realized something important. "Oh, of course. I'm early." Clint looked at the man as if he was spewing nonsense. Which, to Agent Barton, it was.

The Doctor started walking towards his blue box, shaking his finger at it, as if he were… reprimanding it? "You _never_ take me where I want to go, do you? We're early! Why would you—never mind, I'm not even going to…" the Doctor rambled, shaking his head. He let out a sigh.

"You tell me right now what's going on." The Doctor wheeled around to see Hawkeye, bow nocked with a traditional arrow, aiming at one of his hearts.

"Nothing- really, nothing. I'll see you again in a while; I'm a bit early, sorry about that."

"Tell me right now, what do you want from me?"

"Agent Barton, what's the time, if you don't mind me asking?"

Clint looked out the window at the sun on the horizon. "Approximately 8:00 P.M. If you don't tell me what's going on right now, I swear I will shoot—"

"Agent Barton, if I'm not mistaken, aren't you in the middle of something important?" Clint lowered his bow as he realized that he had left Natasha on her own. The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "I think your girlfriend needs your help."

"Not my girlfriend," Clint muttered.

"Go. You'll see me again soon enough." Simply the way the Doctor looked at him convinced Hawkeye that the man was telling the truth. The agent nodded slightly, checked around the room, and then started off to find his redheaded partner.

The Doctor walked back into his TARDIS, hanging up his coat as he entered. He started circling the control module, a thought surfacing to his mind. "Why here? Why now? I'm not always where I want to be, but you always-" a realization struck the Time Lord, and he stopped pacing. "I'm not early. I'm right on time." He urgently grabbed his coat and ran out the TARDIS doors.


	3. In which Clint thinks about things

_Budapest_

_Saturday, June 19__th__, 2010_

Clint donned his sunglasses as he ran out of the abandoned apartment building in which he had just had one of the strangest experiences of his life- and that was saying something, seeing what his job was. He was supposed to meet Natasha at a small fountain a few blocks away- now that the building was burnt to the ground, the job was practically complete and hopefully they could get out of the city as fast as possible.

Not, of course, until they had dinner. The only part of this day he had been looking forward to. That reminded him- what was with that peculiar man- the Doctor? What did he mean, he was early? And how the hell did he move that blue box from the street to the apartment so quickly? What really freaked him out was how the Doctor knew his name- that was private information. As a spy, one does not simply go around shouting to the world, "HEY MY NAME IS CLINT BARTON AND I'M ON A MISSION TO SAVE THE WORLD!"

Actually, he wasn't completely certain if he was saving the world. The mission had been to destroy something- apparently something so dangerous that even those trying to destroy the damn thing couldn't know. It had to do with technology, that's what they had told him. Something about mass warfare on a level that "the Earth just isn't ready for yet."

"In a couple of years," Fury had said. "We'll be prepared. But this is not something we, with the forces we have now, can deal with on such an enormous scale."

"Well, what the hell is it?" Clint asked him.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," the man said, staring knowingly out the window. Barton hated that about Nick Fury. Always had to make everything so dramatic and secretive. He trusted him nonetheless; and if Fury said this thing needed to be destroyed, then by all means he would destroy it.

Clint reached the fountain where his redheaded companion was waiting. She looked up at him, a blank look on her face. "Nice work. Whatever was in there is long gone by now. It's time for us to get out of here."

"Orders were to wait twenty-four hours after the building was demolished in order to assure that the threat was gone."

"You pretty much blasted that building to hell, Clint, I doubt whatever was in there is coming back. We should get out." Natasha hadn't been part of Shield for long- while she was a talented spy, she didn't trust the agency as wholeheartedly as Clint.

"Twenty-four hours. They need to scan for-"

"No, she's right. You should get out." Clint spun around, and in a split second had his bow aiming straight at-

"You."


	4. In which the Doctor has options

_The way the Doctor thought of it was like this: He had four options. _

_Option One was to leave them alone and let them handle it- They could probably do it, but how many lives would be lost in the process? It wasn't his style, anyways._

"Hello, me again." The Doctor gave him a smile and a wave.

Clint lowered his bow and put away the arrow. "I thought you said you were early- I didn't think you meant half an hour early."

"Nah, I was supposed to be here when I was. The TARDIS knows what she's doing. Anyway, enough about me, you two should be off. Hop on the next plane to France and go have dinner in Paris or something. Out."

_Option Two: Tell them to get out._

"And why, exactly, do _you_ want us out?"

"Because I know what that thing is and trust me, it is far from anything you can handle right now. So get out, have dinner with your girlfriend, and let me handle this by myself. I know what I'm doing and you don't." The Doctor spoke fast and intensely, looking at Clint with a deadly serious expression on his face. Clint wasn't impressed.

"First of all, she is _not _my girlfriend; and second, what on Earth gives you the authority to take command of this mission explicitly assigned to myself and Agent Romanoff here?"

The Doctor pulled out an ID and flipped it open to show Clint. "I'm a SHIELD Agent like the two of you and I have been called in to replace the two of you. Now if you would please-"

_Option Three: Trick them into leaving._

"Sir, I don't know what you're doing but that's a blank sheet of paper." Natasha stared at the Doctor.

"I don't understand." Clint looked at his partner. "What do you mean, blank? It's clearly SHIELD identification. Almost identical to what we carry."

"Naaaaaah, she's right. Psychic paper. Shows you whatever I want you to see." The Doctor flipped it shut and stashed it in his coat pocket. He turned to Natasha. "Should've read your file a bit more thoroughly, ought've expected you to have had some basic psychic training."

"Psychic training? Oh, the mumbo-jumbo from-" A worried look struck Agent Romanoff's face. "You read my file." Agent Romanoff leaned over and whispered worriedly to Clint, "I thought you had that wiped."

"I did. I don't know who this man is but he has access beyond our control." He looked up at the Doctor. "Listen, I am going to ask you one more time what we are dealing with and what you could even possibly think gives you the authority to take control of this task."

The Doctor stared at him for a moment.

"Sir, if you don't cooperate I will have to shoot-"

"Alright." He looked around the park. "I'll show you." He started walking away from the pair. After a moment, when he realized they weren't following him, he turned around and shouted, "Well, come along, then!"

_Option Four: Tell them the truth._

* * *

I haven't really said anything to you all yet, but I think there's a fair amount of people reading this story so I just want to say thanks for the feedback and such. I hope you're enjoying it and I'll try to get around to updating as quick as possible- I know how it's gonna go, I just have to write it down.

I'll try to update soon!


	5. In which we learn about the Doctor

_Budapest_

_Saturday, June 19__th__, 2010_

[About an hour later]

"Bigger on the inside," repeated Clint.

"Right, yup."

"Alien."

"Mhm." The Doctor stuck his hands in his pockets and began strutting around the TARDIS console.

"Time machine?"

"And space too." He gave Clint a clever-looking smirk.

"And you're a Time Lord."

The Doctor tapped his chest proudly. "Two hearts are better than one."

"And we're dealing with-"

"Something way out of your league."

"Doesn't matter," Natasha cut in. "Director Fury assigned us this mission and we plan on completing it."

"Hold on a minute, weren't you just trying to get your boyfriend to abandon it with you?"

"Not her boyfriend," muttered Clint.

"Not yet," said the Doctor, giving him a look.

Natasha continued talking, unfazed. "I assumed that the mission had been completed when the hotspot was destroyed. However, according to what you're telling us, we're nowhere near through with it."

The Doctor looked back and forth from Natasha to Clint. Both of them stared at him, patiently but with determination. "Oh, all right." A grave look surfaced. "But you're not going to like it." He started fiddling with the TARDIS console's computer system.

"Doctor, I'm sure I've seen worse," said Natasha. The Doctor looked up from his computer for a second and just stared, looking at her with an expression that read, 'you have no idea.' He faced back down and continued typing and turning buttons.

"Here." The two SHIELD Agents walked over and stood around the computer screen, watching intently.

Screams. The sound of metal against metal, and the cadence of metal legs marching. All uniform. All the same. All so bizarrely inhuman.

Clint kept his face stony, refusing to show (or even admit to) the seed of trepidation that had planted itself in his stomach. He glanced over at Natasha, visage as unfazed as his. Or so it appeared; he knew how skilled she was at acting. She was human, as he was, and just because of that simple fact he knew that she was not unaffected.

But the Doctor- the Doctor was not human. He was an alien. Clint had understood that before, more or less, but looking at the man in the brown suit now, he felt a certain uneasiness that hadn't been there before. Perhaps it was his calmness- the way he looked at the images, it was as if he had seen them a million times before. If this was what was out there, in the Universe, in the future even- this evil killing machine that sucked the humanity out of people—Clint wasn't sure he wanted to be around for any of that. "…Known throughout the Universe as Hawkeye," that's what the Doctor had said. Known for what?

Clint's head snapped back to reality when his partner asked the one obvious question that neither of them really wanted the answer to.

"What are they?"

"They're called the Cybermen."

* * *

I'm ba-ack, sorry it took so long! feelin' a bit uninspired, so I had to wait for my muse to come and visit me. Fortunately my friend nagging me to finish got the job done, so I hope you enjoy this chapter. Honest reviews and thoughts and predictions and whatever are super awesome, thanks to all who have given them already (I don't know what the etiquette for thanks is here on fanfiction, It differs depending on the site [dA/tumblr/fb/etc] but thanks) Love ya, Soulie~


	6. In which they go to a restaurant

_Budapest_

_Saturday, June 19__th__, 2010_

"Are they… alive?" Natasha asked, turning her head to face the Doctor.

The Time Lord looked at the SHIELD agent, eyes burdened with age and experience that Clint, at the moment, was thankful he did not share. "That's a very good question, Natasha. One that I've been asking myself and others for a very long time."

Clint looked at the Doctor as he puzzled through his thought process aloud. "So they're… half-alive, then? How does that work exactly, robot aliens? Is there something inside them, powering them at the core? Or maybe they used to be alive—human, even—but they've been stripped of—" An almost indiscernible nod from the other man set the air heavy with silence again.

"And that's what they were doing at the apartment building." Her voice lacked volume, but was not soft enough to be considered a whisper. It was a breath of truth that the pair had come to silently, begging to be vocalized even though they all understood.

"Yes, and you destroyed that one. But there are others." The Doctor's weathered expression faded slightly, hinting at a devious, adventurous nature that Clint suspected often covered up the gravity with which he viewed the Cybermen. "Others that you cannot see. But I see them." He raised an eyebrow, regarding Natasha and Clint with a subtle air of…hope? "Are you sure you want to do this? After what you've seen." They both nodded in turn. The Time Lord's face finally broke into a grin. "Alright," he beamed, nodding his head to the side. "I hope you're fit. There's an awful lot of running involved." His smile faltered for a split second, something Clint noticed but did not mention.

"Okay, then, where do we begin?" Natasha checked her weapons. (The Doctor frowned as she handled the firearms. She didn't seem to pay attention. Clint took note.)

"Restaurant across from the fountain."

"They're set up at a restaurant?" Natasha repeated warily. It sounded ridiculous, but not impossible.

"Oh, nah. But I bet you and your boyfriend—" Clint didn't say anything this time, just rolled his eyes with a breath of protest "—are starving."

Natasha gave him a dismayed look but didn't protest. Clint had to admit that he was, in fact, very hungry, and wouldn't mind sitting down to eat something. "Alright, we'll eat first. But from what you've said, Doctor, this isn't a situation where we can sit around and let the problem fester."

The Doctor smirked, grabbed his coat and headed out the door of the TARDIS with an enthusiastic "Allons-y!"

* * *

_Budapest_

_Saturday, June 19__th__, 2010_

The trio sat at the table and looked over their menus. Clint could feel a hint of anxiety growing in his stomach, though he wasn't sure if it was because the impossible task he recently took on or because he was sitting next to Natasha. Whatever the cause, he buried the feeling deep in the pit of his stomach and pondered over what to order.

The waitress approached the three of them and asked for their drink orders. None of them really wanted anything besides the water already sitting on their table, so no orders were taken. As the waitress turned to walk away, Natasha's eyebrows darted upwards. She called to the wait woman walking away. (She promptly turned around and approached them once again.) "Are you aware that you have rats in your workplace?" She asked authoritatively with the slightest hint of accusation below her words. The waitress looked around frantically before she leaned in and whispered, "They're not rats, ma'am," and scurried off to serve the other tables. Natasha turned to the Doctor, perplexed. "This isn't just some restaurant, is it." It was less of a question and more of a statement, for she already knew the answer. The Doctor shot the both of them a smug grin and adjusted his glasses. "No time to waste."

* * *

HEY GUYS ITS BEEN A COUPLE OF MONTHS

I apologize for this being so short. I'll get around to writing a nice long one for ya that I'll hopefully have up before April, maybe sooner if I feel inspired/have time.

I'm sorry I promise I haven't forgotten about you all I just okay I don't have an excuse I just didn't feel like writing

Sorry if my characterization isn't as great as it was before. I'm trying I promise /3

Keep up the feedback. I read and love all of it. 3 Soulie~


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